


And They Were Symbiotes

by Theningaraf



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Dan and Anne are in here but it's really not the focus of the work, Eddie Brock Loves Venom Symbiote, F/M, I mean it's a genderless alien goo, Non-binary Venom, Other, Past Abuse, Post-Venom (Movie 2018), Roommates, Venom Symbiote (Marvel) is a Little Shit, Venom Symbiote Loves Eddie Brock, Venom and Eddie aggree, also fuck abusers, but it'll get better, mcu canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theningaraf/pseuds/Theningaraf
Summary: Bryan Hernandez is in desperate need of a new apartment and roommate - desperate enough that he's making really bad puns to himself.  But what will happen when the potential roommate he meets wasn't technically the one that put up the listing, and furthermore, is hosting an alien symbiote who gets hankerings for chocolate and brains and thinks the love of their life needs a bit more human interaction?





	1. Chapter 1

Bryan looked up at the building and sighed.

His backpack shifted, and he unconsciously repositioned it. Earlier this evening, he had seen the advertisement for this apartment on some super shady website – he’d had to make sure it was current when he saw WordArt worthy of GeoCities plastered across the page. But, well, he didn’t really have a choice. He needed a new apartment, since his current living situation had gotten… untenable.

Un_tenant_able.

Ha. Untenable tenant. Ha ha.

He groaned and rested his head against the building with a thunk. If that was the caliber his thoughts were taking, he might as well leave right now and not even bother talking to a potential roommate. It wouldn’t be possible to make a good impression when horrid wordsmashes like that were floating around in his head, waiting to escape. But…

Well, he really didn’t have a choice.

Four flights of stairs later, he still didn’t have a choice, but at least he had the right apartment. He knocked on the door, then waited for an answer.

The guy who responded was not what Bryan had expected. Average height, but what could be a solid build under the gray hoodie. The sleeves were rolled up, and Bryan could see tattoos across one forearm. But the guy didn’t give off the air of a cocky, tattooed muscle-bro, or that of a delinquent druggie living in a building in dire need of repairs – more like a concerned neighbor, with his eyes showing a hint of caution.

Though, as Bryan looked, he thought he saw something swimming deep behind his eyes…

“Hello?”

Bryan started, and had to quickly remind himself where he was. Whatever he thought he saw, it was gone. “Um, hi, yes. Are you Eddie?” Great opening lines. Going to get himself an Oscar for that one.

“Yeah.” The caution kicked up a notch. “And you are…?”

“Bryan. Hernandez. Sorry, I, uh, I saw the ad that you put up saying you were looking for a roommate?”

Eddie’s gaze turned inward for a moment, and Bryan felt his heart lurch. Was the posting a mistake? Had he already found a roommate? Panic spurring him on, he fumbled open a sheet of paper to show the printed out ad page, and held it up.

The instant Eddie saw the ancient graphics, he snorted and broke into giggles. As he calmed down, he said, “Oh my God, I had forgotten they had done that!” Bryan’s heart froze in his chest, but Eddie continued, saying, “Yes, well, I guess I do need an– a roommate. Come on in, we’ll have a chat, see if you’re a good fit.”

“I – thanks.”

Eddie finally opened the door, and Bryan followed through into what would hopefully be his new home. The place wasn’t bad, despite the building and neighborhood – Eddie kept the place clean despite the minimal settings. Not minimalistic like rich and living ‘simply’, but minimalistic because he couldn’t buy anything else. The floorplan was open, with the kitchen, dining, and living spaces all butting up against each other without walls in the way. Bryan could see three doors on the far wall, assumedly a bathroom and two bedrooms.

Eddie went over to the kitchen cabinets, pulled out two glasses, and said, “Can I get you anything? Coffee, beer?”

Bryan shook his head and said, “Water, please.” He grabbed one of the chairs around the island as Eddie turned the faucet on, and shifted his backpack around to his front. He sat down very carefully with his backpack in his lap – he didn’t want to aggravate any of his bruises. He thought he saw Eddie stiffen when he sat, but when he looked up, the other man was opening the fridge to grab a bottle for himself.

Eddie put the water glass in front of Bryan, and said, “I’m sorry for my reaction at the door. I have a dear friend, Vee, who only wants the best for me, and sometimes goes ahead and does things that they think will be good for me without asking.” He took a swig of his own drink, smiled, and said, “Silly goober. So, why do you need a new place?”

Bryan was grateful for the space granted by Eddie sitting on the other side of the island. Still nervous, he took a drink to try and give himself some time. “My previous roommate and I developed… irreconcilable differences,” he told the glass in front of him, “and further cohabitation was no longer advisable.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t prod further. Instead, he said, “Well that’s lawyer speak if I’ve ever hear it. You working in law?”

Bryan shrunk in on himself, and focused closer on the glass in his hands. “No, sir, I… I just lost my job.”

“Hey, call me Eddie. None of that ‘sir’ nonsense, you don’t need to debase yourself in front of me.”

Bryan braced himself at the first sound of Eddie’s voice, but the smooth, soothing tone and the words he said helped calm Bryan’s racing heartrate. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and reminded himself not to fall into old habits. He didn’t need to anymore. He was out.

He nodded understanding, and Eddie continued. “So it sounds to me like you need a space to get your feet back under you. At least you won’t have any wonky hours. Me, I’m a journalist, I’m out and about at all hours of the day and night. I will do my best to be quiet if,” he paused, blinked, and corrected himself, “when I’m moving around and you’re asleep, and I apologize in advance when I trip over the weight set. Damn things are never where I thought I put them.” He levelled a glare off in the corner of the room at the offending metal, and muttered, “Yeah, you. I’m looking at you, you bastard.”

Confusion crept into Bryan’s voice as he said, “Wait, but – am I? Are you? What are you saying?”

“Oh, right.” Eddie focused back on Bryan, and said, “I’m cool with you, and with you moving in, and you would be, too, or you wouldn’t still be here, so I figured the decision was made. You need help moving anything?”

That man was being far to nonchalant about this. “You’re… accepting me? But I can’t pay you!”

Eddie flashed a grin and took another swig of beer. “I’m able to hold down the rent fine on my own, and honestly? You seem like you’ll need whatever money you end up making way more than I do.”

“Don’t I need to apply with your landlord or something?”

“Nah, nobody cares who’s on what paper in this building as long as the rent comes in on time.”

Surprising wells of resistance rose within Bryan, and he said, “But, but you don’t know me at all! What if I’m like a, uh, a serial killer or something! I could kill you in your sleep!”

Eddie snorted beer through his nose and bent over the island, torn between giggling uncontrollably and muttering ‘ow, ow, ow’ while the beverage dripped off his face. Bryan paused for a moment, dumbfounded, then jumped off the chair, slipped his backpack back over his shoulder, ignored the throb from his bruises, and grabbed the paper towel roll off the counter to clean up. After a moment of wiping, he had cleaned up the spill, but Eddie was still gasping over the table, so he went to the cabinet Eddie had used earlier to get him a glass of water.

He set the glass down in arm’s reach of Eddie, and said, “Take sips. It’ll help slow your breaths.” After Eddie had done just that, he sat back in his chair and said, “I dunno what was so funny about that, though.”

“Please, you couldn’t _possibly_ be a serial killer.” Eddie took another sip of water, and wiped some tears from his eye. He smiled at Bryan, and said, “As I said, I’m a journalist. I keep tabs on any serial killers in the area; hell, I’ve interviewed some serial killers in the area. You are none of them, and also none of them would have drawn attention to themselves by suggesting they were one to begin with!” He leaned back, still smiling, crossed his muscular arms, and said, “Yeah, I don’t have anything to worry about from you.”

“But how do you know?”

“You’re not a killer. Trust me. I know the type.” And that was the end of that.

Eddie struck out on a different tack, saying, “So, back to my previous question: you gonna need help moving anything?”

Bryan felt his cheeks heat, and his gaze dropped back onto the table. Accepting that he was moving in with Eddie, he said, “…No, I have everything in here.” He shifted his shoulder, drawing attention to his backpack.

Eddie’s smile slipped and his eyes hardened, and Bryan flinched away. He could only imagine that the journalist wanted to dig deeper into his story – why Bryan showed up here, not even having spoken with Eddie before, with only the clothes on his back and the spares in his backpack, which wasn’t even full, and having just lost his job. Bryan didn’t want to talk about any of it, and he braced himself for the questions he knew would be coming –

“Well, grab it then, and I’ll show you your room.”

Eddie had gotten out of his seat by the time Bryan had realized he was letting it go. A wave of relief poured over him, almost knocking him out of his chair, and he reveled in the thought that he wouldn’t have to make up excuses and lie to keep Eddie from knowing what had happened.

He must have taken too long relaxing though, because Eddie shot him a quick question from halfway across the room. “Hey, you ok?”

The response was unconscious. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He had said that too often to even notice the lie.

Not wanting to keep his host any longer, he followed Eddie through the rightmost door on the far wall. Inside, he saw an empty room. The closet could barely fit his arm, much less any clothes that he’d want to hang in there. The room itself had no decorations, and the only piece of furniture was a mattress, sans box spring, lying forlornly in a corner.

“Sorry that there isn’t much,” Eddie said, “but I had a bit of a rough patch a while ago and never bothered to do anything with the room.”

“It’s fine, thank you.” Bryan carefully placed his backpack next to the mattress, and looked up when Eddie started talking again.

“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, except the tater tots and any chocolate. Those are special for Vee. You will probably not ever meet Vee – they’re very shy, and can be a bit self-conscious around people, or in general. They’re good though, and I couldn’t imagine my life without them.” He paused for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “Anyway, I think that’s it for me. Knock on my door if it’s closed, we don’t want anyone seeing something they might regret. You have anything for me?”

As Eddie looked at him expectantly, Bryan couldn’t think of anything to say. Eddie was being more than generous with the entire situation – what right did Bryan have to ask anything more of him? Then his heart skipped a beat, and he said, “Please, just… Don’t tell anyone that I’m here. Anyone. Please.”

Eddie’s face locked down again, and Bryan braced for rejection, or qualification, or just finally getting fed up and demanding answers, but all he heard was, “No one outside this apartment will know that you’re here.”

He looked up. Eddie’s face and voice were soft as he said, “I can’t promise that if anyone comes in, they won’t notice you; I don’t know you well enough to know how well you can hide your presence. But you have the promise that that’s the only way someone will find out.”

Bryan deflated in a rush. He nodded his thanks to Eddie, then flumped down on the mattress in exhaustion. The stress of… the whole day, and the apartment search, and this wonky pseudo-interview finally took its toll, the adrenaline faded, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

Eddie said, “I’ll go get you a spare blanket, and grab a pillow tomorrow. Wi-fi info is on the fridge, and I’ll have another key cut for you while I’m out tomorrow, too.”

As Eddie turned off the light in this spare bedroom and closed the door, he said, “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”

Bryan didn’t have the presence of mind to wonder why Eddie thought he wanted to be safe before sleep took him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryan and Eddie learn surprising things about each other. Also, pasta!
> 
> Feel free to speculate on what Eddie's being truthful about at any given point. If you get it right, you owe yourself cookies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a couple panic attacks, and references to past abuse. If you notice anything else I should warn about, please, please please please let me know and I will add or tag them. Or both.

Bryan sobbed into the mattress.

He had woken up earlier in the day to an empty apartment. Assuming that Eddie was out and about journalist-ing, he went and explored the common spaces. Space. Well, space and bathroom.

Since the only parts of the apartment to actually be walled off were the bedrooms and bathroom, he didn’t really have much to explore. Everything was pretty clean, thank God – he really didn’t want to clean someone else’s grody toilet seat. He noted the mirror and medicine cabinet, which looked newer than the rest of the bathroom furnishings, as the place to put his toothbrush and sundry toiletries. …When he got them.

The kitchen was well stocked, though an entire shelf in the pantry had been devoted to various types of chocolate. The couch was… well-loved. The arms were getting thread bare, and the springs had obviously been reinforced with plywood, but it didn’t smell and it was still comfy. Now that the sun was up, the windows had a wide view of the city and bay, and a commanding watch over the intersection and both streets the building was on. The weight set Eddie had mentioned was just a bench and a set of dumbbells that lived unobtrusively in the corner near Eddie’s door. Bryan didn’t know how Eddie could trip over them, they seemed securely ordered and placed in their corner.

But after he had finished exploring, he didn’t have anything to do besides unpack. However, he also didn’t want to go digging around in his backpack quite yet. Because reasons. He compromised by sitting on the couch and watching people on the sidewalk below for a couple hours, but he eventually made his way back to his new bedroom. He didn’t want Eddie to come back in and see him wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

The unpacking itself wasn’t that bad, and he kept inventory against what he knew he had <strike>stolen</strike> taken. Beyond what he wore, he had: a pair of jeans, a pair of sleeping shorts, two pairs of socks, two pairs of boxers, two t-shirts, a sweatshirt, the tablet, and… that was everything.

But that couldn’t have been everything.

He tore through the backpack, opened every pocket and pouch, turned it inside out, and threw it against the floor in frustration. Then he unfolded every piece of clothing, checked through all the pockets, turned everything inside out, snapped them up and down to make sure nothing was loose, and slumped on the ground when he didn’t find anything. He grabbed the backpack _again_, but after searching through the entire thing again and he _still_ hadn’t found it, he knelt on the floor next to the mattress in shock.

He had a braided leather wristband, that he didn’t dare wear before. It was a gift from a friend in college, in his freshman year, and he had kept it with him ever since, to remind him of the time and the shenanigans and the person. Jamie. Usually quiet, but a cutting wit, and devious as a demon, and loyal to the end. And the bracelet was all that he had to remember that.

And he had left it behind.

He thought he had grabbed it in his rush out. From its place in the heating vent, or taped in the closet directly above the door so it couldn’t be seen, or under the lid of the toilet seat, or that spot in the dresser that you had to take the drawer out to get to, or – fuck, which spot _had_ it been in?

He couldn’t keep his emotions in check, and he fell forward onto the mattress, digging his fingers in to try and find anything to ground himself. It was the only thing he had to remember the time before that living hell, before his family and friends had been pushed away from him, before the shame and the lies and the beatings and…

And how did he know that his position now was any better? Sure, Eddie seemed like a great guy, but maybe _he_ was a serial killer posing as a journalist! That would explain his overreaction yesterday, and the vehemence with which he had denied being in any danger from Bryan, but…

The stress of the past seven years found an outlet through his tears as he tried to wash all the pain away.

  


* * *

  


Knock knock knock. “Hey, can I come in?”

Bryan’s head snapped up. His body pushed itself to its feet without any input from his brain, and his mouth spat out the calm, automatic “I’ll be out in just a moment” while his brain uselessly wondered whether he had left the door open.

He didn’t think he had. But he couldn’t remember a lot of the day at the moment.

Eddie must have come back. Damn, he should have noticed that. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard the crying, and only wanted to bring in a blanket or spare pillow or something. Please, God, let him not have heard the crying.

He opened the bedroom door (Ha! He _had_ closed it! Good job, memory.), slipped through, and closed it again behind himself. Eddie had stepped back to clear the doorway, so Bryan said, as nonchalantly as he could manage, “What did you need?”

Eddie looked momentarily unconcerned. He held up a pillow and said, “I got this while I was out today, hope you like a happy medium between firm and soft. New key is on the island, and, aw crap, I forgot the last thing, what was it?” He made a show of cupping his chin in his hand, and looked at the ceiling with a scrunched up thinky face, then snapped his fingers and said, “Oh yeah! Are you ok at all right now?”

Bryan felt himself start to sweat, but he kept his voice rock steady as he said, “Of course. Should I not be?”

Skepticism wrote a five-act opera across Eddie’s face. “Well, your eyes are still red and puffy, and I will freely admit you’ve done a fantastic job keeping it out of your voice, but there’s the extra little bit about how I could hear you breaking down in here _from the stairwell_.”

Bryan hiccupped under the force of the unexpected information. He really shouldn’t have been heard from that far away – hell, for years it had been safer not to let himself be heard at all. His mental state was wobbly enough that the surprise crashed together with the sorrow from earlier. Sorrow was still strong enough to knock over every emotion that popped up, and then barreled its way towards his tear ducts, but he couldn’t do anything except stand and stare at Eddie as his breathing ramped up and his eyes started flooding.

He found himself on the couch, still staring at Eddie’s face, but with Eddie’s hands cradling his face. Eddie kept up a quiet, constant stream of words, saying, “Hey, come back to me, nothing’s gonna hurt you, you’re safe, it’s all right, you’re good,” to a rhythm provided by a pleasant massage behind his temples. As soon as Eddie noticed Bryan focusing back on him, he said, “Are you better now?”

Bryan did a mental diagnostic, and the results came back surprisingly good. He was calm – not just faking calm for other people or himself, but actually calm. At peace, even. Bemused, he nodded at Eddie.

“Ok, cool. Can I take the hands off, now?”

Bryan nodded again, and the massage stopped before Eddie’s hands lifted away from his head. Eddie put his hands on his knees and rocked back, blew out a sigh as he stood up, and said, “You want some hot chocolate?”

Bryan blinked. “Yes, please.”

He tried to preserve the calm as long as he could, as Eddie swept around the kitchen grabbing milk, a mug, hot chocolate powder, a spoon, and realizing he didn’t have enough hands to carry all of the things and use them properly at the same time. Eventually, Eddie deposited a steaming mug into Bryan’s hands, then he took a chair from around the island and sat, head over the chair back, facing Bryan.

Bryan sipped at the mug. It was good hot chocolate.

“Do you have a therapist?”

Eddie’s question caught Bryan off-guard. He knew of the concept itself, but had never thought he’d have the chance to meet one for himself. He shook his head as he took another sip.

“Ok, do you want one?”

_No._ Well, maybe. They were supposed to keep patient confidentiality, but that may not hold against his efforts, and he might end up watching the clinics in the city for any trace of Bryan. And he didn’t want to tell anyone yet, but even Eddie thought that he needed help…

Seeing his indecision, Eddie said, “You don’t have to go see one now, but I’m told they’re really helpful.” He took a moment, then said, “Can I help you get anything? Did you leave something behind?”

Bryan nodded. He still had the calm from when Eddie had brought him down, but it was only still water over black, fathomless, familiar depths of loss. “A bracelet.”

“A specific bracelet?”

He paused, then nodded again.

“Do you have a picture, or can you describe it?”

He started to shake his head, then hesitated. He said, “I can draw it.”

Eddie pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, and Bryan sketched out a modest leather bracelet. Three strips of leather braided together formed the wristband, and a flat strip edged with green and tan accents ran across the top of the wrist. A simple design, but it meant so much to him.

He handed the sketch over to Eddie when it was done. Eddie studied it for a few moments, then said, “You mind if I borrow this? It’s a good likeness, and who knows, I might come across it when I’m working.”

Bryan nodded his assent, but a loud growl from his stomach interrupted the hand off. They both looked down at his midsection in surprise, and Eddie jokingly asked, “What, have you not eaten today?” At Bryan’s guilty look, he said, “Ok, fine then, we’re having dinner.”

Thirty minutes later, Eddie had turned over the kitchen making lasagna, and Bryan had taken the time to re-balance himself. Bryan grabbed tableware out of a cupboard, and they both dug in. The food was better than expected for a thirty-something bachelor previously living alone for who knew how long. Despite that, Eddie supplemented almost every bite of pasta with one of chocolate. After Bryan had taken the edge of his hunger, he worked up the courage to ask, “Didn’t you say that chocolate was specifically for your friend?”

Eddie looked up, half a bar hanging out of his mouth. As he pulled the rest in, his eyes went unfocused for just a moment, but by the time he had swallowed, he was looking at Bryan with full clarity. “It’s… well, yes, they are. Some of them. You see, we have a thing between us, where we’ll each get chocolate for each other. It’s a silly tradition that we started a while back, we’ll each try to sneak chocolate into our apartment, and once we notice that it’s there, we have to eat it.” Eddie finished with a rueful grin, and took another bite of pasta.

“But why chocolate?”

Eddie continued with his mouth full, but took care not to spew food everywhere. “Why chocolate for a dude who works out enough to have a weight set in their own apartment? I have asked myself the same question, many, many times.”

“And?”

“I think because we’re idiots? And also waaaay too stubborn to give the other the satisfaction of ‘victory’?” He shrugged, then took another bite of chocolate. “Admittedly, I’m glad they spring for the good stuff. But yeah, it’s way too late to back out now.”

Bryan’s plate was finally empty enough that more earnest conversation could be expected, so he asked, “Am I ever going to meet them?”

“Who, Vee?”

“If that’s your chocolate-sneaking friend, then yeah. Sorry, I couldn’t remember their name from last night.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Eddie said, then paused in contemplation. “I’d have to ask them. They’re usually pretty shy around people they don’t know, so it might be a while before they’re comfortable letting you see them.”

All right.” Bryan smiled conspiratorially. “Maybe I’ll be able to catch them in their infiltration here.”

“Hah. Good luck!” Eddie openly laughed. “You’ll need it. That fucker is super sneaky.”

They passed they next few moments in companionable silence. Eddie decided to break it first, saying, “Where’d you learn to draw like that?”

“Draw like what?”

He pulled the sketch of the bracelet out of his pocket and said, “Like this. I’ve seen paid artists in this city with less attention to detail than you put into this sketch.”

Bryan felt his cheeks warm, and desperately tried to keep it from showing. “Oh, I just tooled around with drawing in my spare time over the past few years, I’m not really that good.”

“Bulllllllshit. If you have any more of those, they should be sold.” Bryan was one hundred percent trying to signal passing aircraft with his cheeks at this point. “Hell, if you get enough of them, I know some galleries you could show them around to – “

“Please, no, I’m not… they’re not, I don’t want to waste their time. I’m sure the stuff I could show any curators is leagues below what they’re accustomed to seeing.” Both Bryan’s hands came up in refusal, warding off Eddie’s suggestions.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just want to spend some time winding down, I don’t need the stress of commissions or gallery showings or whatever more right now.”

Eddie studied him, and fear flooded Bryan’s system. Was he going to tell him to do it anyway? But he said, “Ok, then,” and immediately hit a different topic. “What did you study, anyway? Or, wait, did you go to college?”

Bryan nodded and eased his way out of the adrenaline high. “I went to a school in Indiana, but dropped out after my sophomore year. I studied engineering while I was there.”

The intrigued look on Eddie’s face stated very clearly that an interesting story had dropped into his lap. “You dropped out in Indiana? How did you end up all the way out here, in the Bay?”

For a few moments, Bryan had been riding the high of actually having conversation, but that question brought the ride screeching to a halt and left him stammering to find an answer. “I, well, you see, it wasn’t, I can’t…”

Eddie took pity on him and said, “Hey, you don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want to. And I’m sorry that my question was uncomfortable for you. Honestly, there’s a lot about you that I’m curious about, but that’s my problem, not yours. You shouldn’t let anyone make that your problem.”

Bryan ducked his head, carefully keeping his face neutral. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome! Because I promise you, it’s good. But hey, who am I to give life advice to someone who so clearly has their shit together?” He smiled, but not mockingly. Maybe even a bit self-deprecating. “Then again, who am I to talk about having their shit together?” he asked himself as he threw an offhand glance at his phone.

His eyes went so wide that the whites were most of what Bryan could see. “Fuck! I’m late!” he shouted, then scarfed down more lasagna than should have fit in his mouth and jumped toward the door. As he struggled with his shoelaces and chewing, he was still intelligible enough for Bryan to hear, “I had a lead that I promised I would meet tonight to get their story and it might be life or death! Aaagh, and then we got distracted and we got to try out a new recipe and we had lovely lasagna and – “ he swiveled upright and leveled the Finger Of Doom at Bryan, who still sat completely bewildered at the table, “and _don’t blame yourself for any of that!_ It is _my_ fault that distraction is almost making me late! Except for pasta, you can take the blame for good pasta.”

He snatched a set of keys off their hook by the door, saying, “If you want to apologize anyway you can take care of the dishes there’s tupperware somewhere I’ll be back later bye!”

The door slammed behind him. Bryan rocked back in his chair, stunned by the whirlwind that had appeared out of nowhere and left just as quickly. He looked at his plate, then the sink, then the cabinets, and realized that he hadn’t found any storage containers in his earlier perusal. Ah, well. He’d just have to look again.

However, he was going to finish his lasagna first.

  


* * *

  


Consciousness trickled into Bryan like thick molasses. He couldn't tell what time it was, but the apartment was dark and the building was quiet. He stayed still, waiting to be roused further or skip back into sleep, and after a few moments, he heard Eddie trip over something and smack into his bedroom door.

“God dammit, Vee! I told you not to do that!” Eddie managed the difficult task of shouting in a whisper quite well. “I very pointedly brought it up when I was talking about you yesterday. We have a roommate now! I know you don’t care about our neighbors but someone else is in this apartment and holy _fuck_ does he deserve to sleep. So put. Those weights. Back!”

Bryan wasn’t sure if Eddie was talking to himself, or was on the phone with his mysterious 'dear friend', or Vee was currently in the apartment with them or what, but he didn’t make a noise while Eddie closed the door to his room and collapsed on the bed. Bryan kept himself as quiet as he could, straining to hear anything more from the other bedroom.

"Yeah, I know." He must have called them, to complain about the weight set and talk about… something else? The walls were surprisingly thin to be able to hear the conversation that well, but Bryan wasn't going to turn up the opportunity to learn more about him. Them. Those two people. Anyway…

"No, I left it on the island. I told you, he deserves to rest, I'm not gonna interrupt that if I can help it." He wondered what they were talking about. Maybe a spare key to the apartment?

"God. I understand his reactions now. Yeah, no, that was bad. Really bad. We were there, and the smell was hard to miss." Wait. _Who_ were they talking about?

"I don't know. We all have different reactions to that kind of trauma, and not everyone can recover from it. But he left on his own - that's a good sign." Must have been the lead that Eddie went sprinting off after during dinner. Sounds like the poor sap had a rough time – he hoped that Eddie would be able to help him, whoever he was.

"Oh, yeah, I want to, too. I would love to - he deserves it.” Bryan was taken aback at the raw hatred that came growling out of Eddie’s throat at that pronouncement, and even more so at the wistful disappointment of the next statement. “But he'd be noticed. Heh, we can't get everyone that'd be interested.” Was Vee in a crime family? “Yeah, humans can be stubborn like that." Was Vee an _alien?_

It wouldn’t be the weirdest possibility, and Bryan wasn’t sure exactly how likely it was anyway. In any case, Vee seemed to be a supremely interesting individual, and Bryan wanted to know more about them. Including their relationship with Eddie.

"I just... This is why I became a journalist. To expose evil _shit_ like that and help people.” Good grief, what did he find? Bryan was going to have to keep an eye on the news to see when the story broke, it sounded like it was going to be something big. “And we can help him, we're helping him right now, but we can't... fix him. Heal him. All we can do right now is keep him safe." It sounded like he got his lead, or source, or whoever to a safe house, which was great news.

"No!” _Huh?_ “You know we can't!” Can’t what? “We talked about this last night, and after the episode today I don't wanna freak him out any more.” What would they do that would freak out their source? “Well, you should have thought about that before you put up that listing, huh?” Eddie sighed. “You probably weren't going to be able to no matter who showed up.” Wait, did Bryan stumble into some news story by answering an apartment listing meant for information gathering? But Eddie had said he was good to stay, and had gotten a new pillow for the mattress, and took care to try not to wake Bryan, not only now but for the future, so he was probably still ok for now. “Humans are weird like that." And there was that weird form of reference again. Maybe it was just an in-joke?

"I know, love. I'm sorry. Me, too. But we can be patient for now. Anticipation will make the meal taste better."

Bryan was very interested in finding out about Vee now, especially with the tender care that Eddie used to cradle the word _love_. Based on the tone alone, he didn’t think it was a mere affectation, like the British used – that sounded like a deep, cherished relationship. Bryan hoped it wouldn’t turn sour for Eddie, like it had for him.

"Good night, love."

Eddie turned over again, and that was the last Bryan heard from him that night. He spent the rest of his time awake turning over the things he had heard, wondering: Who was Eddie?

Who in the world was Vee?

And what, exactly, had Bryan gotten himself into here?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast! Surprise gift also, and learning more about Bryan and what certain people are doing out in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for panic attack and descriptions of stalking. Again, please, if you notice anything I need to warn against or add tags for, please, let me know and I will do so.
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos! They give me so many wonderful glowy feelings inside, you don't even know. Also, I'm sorry, but I probably won't reply to comments, but please know that I read and have treasured every single one.

The sultry scents of hot grease and cheese heralded Bryan’s return to awareness.

His nose tried to wake him up and get him out of bed, but his eyes pulled rank and refused to open, so when his legs compromised with his arms and tried to turn him over, the resulting uncoordinated confusion flipped him over and off the mattress. He landed in an undignified tangle, and spent a few moments unwilling to put any more energy into moving but also profoundly uncomfortable with an elbow sticking into his gut. He settled on a generalized, all-encompassing hatred before the smell wafted back in with the addition of some sweet, sugary thing, and that was enough to spur him to his feet and put on lounging-around-the-apartment clothes.

Eddie was busy at the stovetop, doing something miraculous in a pair of skillets. The island top had places set for a hearty breakfast, and as Bryan wandered over, he thought he saw something not dish-shaped on the other side of one of the plates.

Then Eddie noticed him and called out, “Morning! Wasn’t sure when you were going to be up so I started on breakfast, but I was going to wake you when I finished. Pour yourself something out of the fridge, the bacon and eggs are almost done.”

“I… thanks!” Bryan said, taken aback. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Nah, I’ve got it all under control.” Bryan almost believed him, until the bacon grease spattered onto his arm. “Aagh! Fuck!”

Concerned, Bryan stepped toward him and said, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” He blew a short, sharp breath out, and said, “It’s only gonna blister, and the tattoos will hide any scars. I’m fine.”

Still skeptical but unwilling to try and force the muscular man off the stove when hot grease was involved, Bryan slipped behind him and opened the fridge. Few options presented themselves to him – Eddie apparently preferred to have a lot of his favorites instead of a lot of options. Bryan had the opportunity to choose between multiple bottles of beer (not for breakfast), three jugs of chocolate milk (…not right now…), and two massive, four-gallon containers of orange juice (by elimination, the only thing left). He wrestled one of the orange juices up to the island, looked for his glass, and finally noticed what looked not dish-y now that the plate wasn’t blocking it.

His bracelet.

The bottom dropped out of his stomach so fast that it took his knees out with it, and he had to collapse onto the island to keep himself from falling back onto the floor and probably breaking a rib when the orange juice would have landed on his chest. It wasn’t possible. Nothing went on in that house that _he_ didn’t know about, literally nothing, he had hidden cameras and motion sensors and all kinds of shit, how could Eddie have possibly gotten in and out and found it and not gotten found out?

His hand reached out to pick it up, and Bryan distantly noted that it was trembling. It felt right, as he cradled it in his hands, it felt exactly the same as it had for the last eight years, and he slipped it onto his wrist as his wavering voice asked, “Where did you find this?”

“Hmm?” Eddie spared a glance behind him before he turned off the stove top. “Oh, yeah, I put the word out in the homeless community last night, and one of them was able to find it in a drainage ditch somewhere. It helped that I made copies of your sketch, everyone who saw it was really impressed with it.”

Bryan still stared at the leather bands on his wrist. It didn’t look half bad for having been out in water for a day or two, but that’s what good leather is good for. He must have thrown it out when he tore apart the house looking for Bryan, and by some miracle, one of Eddie’s contacts had spotted it. That was… that was really the only thing that made sense. Despite the overheard conversation last night, he assured himself that it was the only thing that made sense.

Eddie set two plates, one of bacon and one of eggs, on the island, then poured himself some chocolate milk, said, “Bone app the teeth!” and dug in, giggling to himself. He let Bryan make his own pace to the food, which he took full advantage of, pouring the orange juice and slipping into his seat in a daze. Not only did he have the bracelet back, he could wear it, wave it about, show the world that those relationships hadn’t died, they’d merely gone into hibernation. A thought started nagging at him, though, poking at him, telling him he was forgetting something…

He snapped his head up and focused on Eddie. “Thanks!” he said, desperately trying to pack the outpouring of gratitude and joy that was coursing through his body down into the tiny words that spilled from his mouth. “Thank you so much, I owe you so much, I’ll never keep trying to repay you, I – “

“Hey, you stop that right now,” Eddie said, pointing an egg-laden fork at Bryan. “No selling yourself into slavery under this roof. I have provided, as the local parlance would put it, ‘a gift.’ Well, multiple gifts. Specifically to you at no cost, no fine print, no returns accepted, with no conditions attached other than that you _accept it_ and _be happy_. But only if it’s natural happiness. I don’t want you to try and force yourself to be happy and end up in Stepford Smiler territory, that never ends well.” At the end of his speech, he popped the eggs into his mouth and started chewing in obvious delight.

Bryan smiled, unable to do anything else in the face of the gift and that pronouncement. He almost didn’t believe that anyone could be this generous, but everything he had seen of Eddie this far had convinced him otherwise. He still wanted to do something to show his thanks to Eddie, though, and his smile turned a bit impish as he thought of the perfect way to do it.

“If that’s the way gifts are treated in this apartment, then what’s keeping me from giving you any number of gifts in return?”

Eddie stopped with his mouth open, about to take a bite, dumbfounded surprise written all over his face. After a moment, he remembered himself, jammed the laden fork into his mouth, and spoke around the eggs, saying, “You’re a shneaky little shit. I like that.”

Pride bloomed in his heart, but he couldn’t let that pass. “What, and you aren’t?”

“Oh, I absolutely am,” Eddie said with satisfied nonchalance. “And I’m glad to welcome you into our esteemed company. Now go on, enjoy your celebratory induction breakfast.”

Bryan realized that he had been so focused on the bracelet that he had forgotten that food was available, or even a thing. “Oh! Um, what’s…?”

“We’ve got crunchy bacon, eggs with butter and cheese and nummy spices mixed in, and toast if you want any,” Eddie supplied before Bryan could even finish his question. “Butter and I think only grape jelly, and salt and pepper. And to drink, you already have orange juice, though it might be good to get the rest of it in the fridge before it warms up.”

Bryan nodded and set out to wrestle the heavy container back into the fridge. When he closed the door and stood back up, he saw that Eddie had failed to mention something, and what he was doing with it was completely unorthodox.

Eddie was pouring syrup on his bacon.

Bryan flumped back into his seat and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Eddie looked up, then back down at his pouring. “The sweetness goes really well, surprisingly well, with the fatty bacon goodness. You should try it, but not from this bottle, because Vee is the sneakiest fucker. Way more than you and me.”

Bryan peered closer at the bottle when Eddie set it on the table, and realized that it was _chocolate_ maple syrup. “I… didn’t know that existed.”

“Neither did I, and I’m pretty sure I was in the store with them when they got it,” Eddie said, exasperated. “Almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened the pantry this morning and just saw _that_, standing there on a shelf, gloating at me, and I swear I could hear Vee giggling about it from _here_.”

Bryan sat and spun in neutral for a few moments, then asked, “Do you, um, have any other kind of syrup?”

“Nope! But bacon’s good on its own, anyway.”

_Well, he’s not wrong_, Bryan thought, and dug in. 

Neither of them really talked during the rest of the meal, both too busy stuffing their faces. Bryan took extra care not to dip the bracelet in anything – even though nothing on his plate was particularly messy, he still didn’t want to risk it. By the time they finished, Bryan was leaning back in his chair, rubbing his stomach and taking deep breaths to help ensure that one of the largest meals he had had in years actually stayed inside him. Eddie, on the other hand, looked none the worse for wear, despite having eaten more than Bryan without even counting the syrup. Bryan wondered again how that man could possibly stay in that shape given what he ate as Eddie got up and started loading the dishwasher.

The thought of cleaning pinged off a few dusty neurons, and Bryan realized he needed to know something. “Hey, Eddie, where do I do my laundry?”

Eddie’s head bobbed up from where he was hunched over the dishwasher. “Oh. It’s down in the basement.” He finished putting the last pieces in, and closed the door. “I need to run a load for myself. Wanna throw your stuff in with mine?”

“Yes, please,” Bryan nodded. “Though, do you have any spares? I kind of need to wash everything at this point.”

Eddie headed back towards his room and said, “Sure. Chuck me your shirt, I’ll grab a clean pair of sweats for you.”

The wadded-up shirt hit Eddie in the back of the head. By the time he had turned around, Bryan had already ducked behind the island, and the bigger man took that as an invitation to chase his roommate around the island twice, shouting, “Yes I know I said ‘chuck it’ but I expected something a bit more considerate!” and Bryan just kept facing him and laughed. After the second circuit, Bryan made a break for the couch, landed on it, and spun around, ready for Eddie to come barreling at him, but Eddie hadn’t followed. He stood stock-still at the corner of the island, staring at Bryan.

“Bryan,” Eddie said, voice low and careful, “what happened to your back?”

All of the elation and camaraderie pumping through Bryan immediately turned to ice and he twisted to keep anything from showing to the other man, but Eddie stepped closer and crouched a few feet in front of him. “Nothing, I – it’s fine. I’m fine.” As always, the lie came so quickly and easily that he even believed it himself.

“No, dude, you’re not.” Eddie kept his voice soft, but Bryan flinched away from it anyway. “Your entire fucking back is like, twelve different bruises – God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen bruises that bad.”

Feeling guilty, Bryan turned his head and contorted enough to check what he could, and flinched again. He had to admit that they looked worse than they usually did. Large, dark blue and black splotches mingled with small patches of yellow-brown the color of dry mud, playing back and forth in a sickly gradient with the greenish stain that filled in everywhere else.

He turned back to Eddie, but before he could reply, Eddie said, “How can you even sit there? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No, of course it doesn’t,” Bryan said, and then surprised himself by realizing that was true. Even the ones he had gotten two days ago didn’t hurt like the first ones did – all they did now was gently remind him they were there. It wasn’t pain so much as a notice from his body saying, “Eh, there’s something here, but it’s not worth fussing over.” And that was true of everything, not just his back.

Now that he thought about it, that probably wasn’t good.

Eddie stared at him, and he fought down the need to apologize. What for, he didn’t know, but it was usually the safest option in a situation like this. Then in a smooth movement, Eddie shot back to his feet and over to the jacket hanging by the door. He grabbed something out of a pocket, then headed back to his earlier spot.

As he grabbed a chair, he said, “I passed by a police station last night, after I talked with my lead.” Seeing the fear on Bryan’s face, he added, “It’s a normal stop for me – it’s a good place to go to find news about what idiocy people are getting up to, both in the city and on the Force.” He snorted and muttered, “Way too many stupid fucking reactionary exclusionist racist idiots on the Force, but it’s too risky to do anything about them yet.” Focusing back on Bryan, he said, “Anyway, I asked if there was anything I should keep an eye out for, ‘cause I see basically all of the city and they know that, and they gave me this.” A couple sheets of paper, folded up. He opened them as he said, “A missing person report, filed by one Kyle Johnston.”

At the name, Bryan’s entire body froze in place. Eddie’s voice started coming from further and further away as he said, “It was filed a couple days ago, maybe an hour or two before we met. And I have to admit, the photo has a striking resemblance to you – maybe a close cousin? But the weird thing is that I’ve never heard the name of the guy who went missing.” Bryan’s breath came in short, quiet gasps. “Do you know anyone by the name Miguel Martinez?”

As Eddie caught his eyes, Bryan finally broke. He glued his ass to the couch but still shoved himself as far back as he could, desperately trying to put space in between himself and his accuser. Frantic words fell out of his mouth as he struggled, saying, “No no no, you can’t take me back, please sir don’t take me back I can’t take it I’ll do anything you ask as long as you don’t tell him, he’ll be angry and I don’t like him when he’s angry, please sir please – “ and then bliss exploded in his head and he fell back in rapture.

From the next planet over, he heard someone say, “I think you went a little heavy on the endorphins, Vee,” but he didn’t care. He had never felt any better than this. He could die, right now, and be happy. The same voice said, “No, you’re supposed to eat the bad neurochemicals like you did the last time, not flood his brain with crack instead! Now come on, flush the rest of that so we can make sure he stays sane, but we are gonna have a talk about this later.”

The floor fell out of Bryan’s world, and then he felt calm, like he had after his panic attack yesterday. He couldn’t quote remember what he had felt or how long he had felt it for, but had been really good, and it would be nice if he could find that again.

He opened his eyes and thought the shadows on the couch near him shifted, but he hadn’t moved and Eddie hadn’t gotten any closer, so he didn’t know what it was. He peered at them for a few seconds more, but they didn’t misbehave so he turned his attention back to his roommate.

“Are you ok?” Eddie asked, with his hands open and to the sides.

Bryan did a mental diagnostic, and the results came back surprisingly good. He felt calm – at peace, even. Bemused, he nodded at Eddie.

“Ok,” Eddie said, “Since I don’t know any Miguel Martinez, and you don’t know any Miguel Martinez,” he stopped and looked at Bryan, “You don’t know any Miguel Martinez, riiiiiiiight?”

Befuddled, Bryan shook his head.

“Great! Since neither of us know any Miguel Martinez, and especially not one that matches this… creepily detailed description, I can go and tell the nice officers that I and mine haven’t seen hide nor hair of him, and he may not even be in the city any more. And _you_, Bryan Hernandez, can stay in this apartment and never see that asshole again.”

As Eddie talked, more and more relief broke into the calm over Bryan’s mind as he realized what Eddie was saying. By the final declaration, tears gathered in his eyes, and he could only use his eyes to try and tell Eddie how much that meant to him.

“But,” said Eddie, “I need to know the severity of the situation, so I would like to ask you one more question about all this, and then we can move on to something else. You don’t have to answer it, but it will make both our lives easier if you do. Is that ok?”

Seeing Bryan’s nod, he said, “If this Kyle gets a hold of you again, will he kill you?”

“No.”

Bryan put every ounce of effort and nuance into that answer to make sure Eddie understood that ‘No’ was the worse option. After all, there were worse things than death.

“Ok then,” Eddie said. “Moving onward; you need to see a doctor.”

The breath flew out of Bryan’s lungs as all he could do was loudly write incredulity across his face, and hands, and body.

“Hey hey hey calm down! Those bruises need to be looked at, especially if they don’t hurt, and I am not good at the whole medicine thing. You don’t want me treating you, really, I promise.”

As much as he wanted to say something, Bryan couldn’t. Fear and anger surged through his throat, but the panic attack that he had just fallen out of still wired his mouth shut. He wanted to explain to Eddie why he didn’t want to do that, why it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have a choice in the matter. His arms crossed in front of him and his fingers traced over the lines of his bracelet as his mind grappled with itself.

Eddie saw him struggling and asked, “Are you – can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Bryan bared his teeth in frustration and shook his head.

Eddie thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you _want_ to tell me what’s wrong?”

Bryan readjusted his arms, looking off past Eddie, and nodded, his chin only moving half an inch.

“But if you want to, why can’t you?”

Bryan’s gaze snapped up to Eddie’s, and if the world had any justice in it, his glare should have vaporized him on the spot.

Eddie jerked his head down, looking sheepish. “You’re right, that was a stupid question. Um, is it a problem with communicating in general, or just speaking? Like, could you type stuff out?”

The thought blindsided Bryan so hard he could almost hear the record scratch. He had never thought about that before. No part of him was screaming disagreement at the thought, so he tentatively held out one hand flat and mimed writing on it with the other one.

Eddie found the same pencil as yesterday and a pad of paper, and handed both to Bryan. “Ok, so what objections do you have to seeing a doctor?”

Bryan wrote out, _Can’t leave apartment_.

“And why not?”

_He’ll find me_.

“Well, that’s a strong statement. San Francisco is a big city; finding one person in it is hard when they’re hiding.”

_Good with surveillance and hacking. Also friends in police._

“Ok, well, fuck. That’s a different story. Um, would it be ok if a doctor came to look at you here?”

_Can’t keep records. He’ll breach patient confidentiality, find me that way._

“…What the fuck? How do you know?”

_Done it before._

“Holy fuck, dude, that is so many different kinds of illegal. Do you have any proof?”

Bryan froze for a full fifteen seconds. Then he quick sketched out _No_.

Eddie’s look entered a Master’s program and wrote out a fifty-page dissertation on exactly how much he didn’t believe that, but instead, said, “The guy I would call wouldn’t keep records if I asked him not to. And yes, I trust him completely – he’s done me enough favors before. And besides, he’s been over here off and on for a while, him coming over now won’t be suspicious.”

Bryan wrote out his last hope. _No money._

“And he really won’t ask for money for it either – he never did for me.”

Bryan paused and gave Eddie a curious look. Eddie smiled and said, “I’m a journalist, and sometimes I get into situations that require off-the-books medical stuff.” Bryan believed him, but somehow the smile on his face was more than just an explanatory, “I’m taking you into my confidence” kind of smile. It looked a bit… predatory.

The pencil hovered over the paper, Bryan sitting in indecision, trying to think of anything he could throw out to keep his location secret. Eventually, he finally gave in and wrote, _What’s his name?_

Eddie’s smile this time was genuine. “Dan.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Dan, the medicine dude! Eddie has a phone call, Bryan has a check-up, Dan has a Conversation, and Vee has a grump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a doctor's visit, and fairly in-depth description of the medical aspects of physical abuse. Please, if you see anything else to warn about, please please please let me know and I will add it.

By the end of it, Eddie’s call to Dan disturbed Bryan.

It started innocently enough. Eddie pulled out his phone and started the call with the ease of familiarity. He only had to wait a few seconds before Dan picked up, but when he did, he opened with, “Hey, are you in surgery today?” and followed up immediately with, “I need to ask a favor.”

He started pacing across the living area while he listened to the response. “No, not like any of those kinds of favors. And Mr. Belvedere looked better in the costume we gave him, anyway.”

He threw up his free arm for emphasis. “Of course that was the point! How else were we supposed to win your contest at work?”

“Ah, but that wouldn’t have worked. With those kinds of costumes, it’s best to be as fake as possible so that no one suspects the real bits are real. Your idea was asking to get you subpoenaed.

“We got them from a butcher’s shop, where else?” Then he stopped dead in his tracks and almost screeched, “You thought we went to the _morgue?_ Why the fuck would we – wait, no, of course _you_ would. You get free access there.

“Ok, mostly free, paperwork blah blah.”

By this point, Bryan had learned that A) Eddie could not in any way keep himself still while on the phone, B) Eddie and Dan obviously had a deep and abiding friendship, and C) he never wanted to go to a party that either man was involved in. He also thought that Mr. Belvedere was probably Dan’s boss, because only a boss would insist on that form of address, but he also was just as suspect about the party thing.

“But that’s not the point! The clumps came out eventually and Anne loved the pictures _and_ that was a favor that _you_ asked of _me_, so I don’t know why we’re discussing it in the context of why a favor I ask of you can only go horribly wrong.

“Oh, sure, dredge up ancient history. The MRI was a one-time event and we know better now! You only got slightly choked, it was fine.

“And – and!” he said, talking over Dan, “I didn’t ask for that favor in the first place. You offered, because of the lobsters.”

_…What?_

“I’m asking now! There’s a medical thing that we need a second opinion on!

“No, you know what their response always is.” He listened a moment. “Yes, that _exactly_.

“Anyway, yes, when can you be over? Great, thanks. And can you bring your number three bag? Thanks again.

“Let’s not let her know for now. Yeah, I know she’ll find out eventually – hell, I want to tell her before too long, but that’s not up to me at the moment.”

With obvious mirth, he said, “I trust you to jump on that grenade for me when the time comes. You’re the husband, of course it’s your job! I’m just the ex! If anything, I’d be in even more danger!

“Yes, ok, anyway, I’ll see you soon. Yeah, yeah. Sheesh, get off the phone and go back to saving lives already.”

Eddie hung up and went back into his room, muttering, “I swear he’s never going to let that thing with Vee go,” and Bryan felt discomfited trying to think about what kind of shady shenanigans those two could get up to that involved something for a costume that could be acquired from either a butcher’s shop or a morgue, the fact that Eddie had apparently choked Dan “a little bit”, and the thought that Dan had _at least_ three separate medical bags ready to go for when Eddie called. Granted, Bryan didn’t know many doctors, or journalists, or honestly any people at all, but that list still didn’t seem like anything approaching normal.

Then a thought hit him, and his estimation of Eddie’s sneakiness shot off the scale. _He hadn’t broken his promise_. He hadn’t told Dan about Bryan, or that Bryan _existed_. He had talked about the problem in such a way that he was mentioning multiple people, but Dan probably thought he was talking about Vee rather than anyone new! Sure, he had broken the spirit of the promise by purposefully bringing someone here to reveal Bryan to them, but that had been acknowledged in the conditions and Bryan had already given his permission to break it like that this once anyway.

Wait, but if Dan had thought that Eddie and Vee needed medical assistance that easily, what actually do those two get up to?

A pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt hit Bryan’s head and broke him out of his thoughts, followed by Eddie saying, “Here you go! Don’t mind me, just returning the favor. Dan should be over in about an hour, so we have plenty of time for laundry and lounging and shit, and if you get changed, we can get started.”

Bryan nodded, grateful for the addition of the sweatshirt to cover up his back, and went into his room to change into the grey sweatgear (were all of Eddie’s lounging clothes grey?) and grab all of his clothes. When he came out, Eddie had a bright blue fishnet bag open and waiting to receive the few clothes he had with him. Eddie’s eyes narrowed when he saw the contribution Bryan made to the bag, but he didn’t say anything about it, and left the apartment with a quick, “I’ll be back!”

The next hour passed fitfully. Bryan and Eddie didn’t talk much, and Bryan thought it was out of a desire to give each other space. Eventually, Eddie pulled out a small laptop and started writing, and Bryan slipped into the meditative space that he used when he had nothing to do. He thought he saw Eddie shoot him a look at some point, but he really wasn’t paying attention.

A knock at the door broke them both out of their stupors, and Eddie shot up to welcome their guest. He threw the door open and pulled the other man into the room, hugging him as they went. “Dan! It’s so good to see you again, it’s been so long!”

“Oh, yes,” Dan said dryly as he put his bags on the island to properly hug Eddie back. “Two days are quite an eternity. I’m surprised you haven’t scrawled a face on your favorite spatula and started calling it Kenmore with Vee waving it around the apartment or something.”

“Hey now, you know I can’t afford that kind of kitchenware yet. Anyway, head on over, make yourself comfortable, we’ll get this sorted out.” Eddie said with his hands in his pockets as he went to close the door.

Bryan fought the urge to disappear into his bedroom by fidgeting with his bracelet as Dan turned toward the couch and stopped.

“Um. Eddie? Who’s…?”

Eddie turned away from the door and said, “Right! Introductions! Dan, this is my new roommate.”

Dan cut him off before he could go any further. “Your roo- what? You got a – what? When?” He turned to Eddie, then realized something and somehow looked even more shocked. “Does he know about – “

“He hasn’t met Vee yet, no. He’s actually the patient that I called about. You know Vee, if it was me hurt then they would have taken care of it their own way. Bryan Hernandez, this is Dr. Dan Weying. Dan, this is Bryan.”

As he said that, he took out the papers with the missing person information from his pocket, opened them on the island, and pointed at them near the top. Dan looked at the information, then up at Eddie’s face, and then nodded.

He turned to Bryan and said, “Hello, Bryan, it’s good to meet you. How can I help?”

Bryan still didn’t quite trust Dan and was eyeing him warily when he caught sight of Eddie behind the doctor. Eddie mimed taking his shirt off and pointed at Bryan, then repeated it more and more vigorously until he accidentally caught his own shirt, pulled it halfway over his head, got his arms stuck, and then tripped over a chair onto the floor trying to untangle himself.

Dan ignored the entire commotion behind him, and refocused Bryan by asking, “Can you point to where I should look?”

‘I… yeah, on… it’s, it’s my back.”

Dan continued in that same calm, patient voice. “Would you be willing to take your shirt off and show me?”

Bryan swallowed, pushed down his shame and fear, and without getting off the couch, pulled the sweatshirt over his head. He couldn’t quite bear to turn and give Dan a view of his back, though.

“Please, Bryan. I need to see what’s going on.”

Bryan finally gritted his teeth and turned enough that Dan could look.

“Ah. I see.”

Dan got up and grabbed two chairs, then placed them facing each other. He gestured to the farther one and said, “Could you sit there, facing the chair back, so I can get a better look at this?”

It took maybe a minute or so of cajoling before Bryan got off the couch and onto the chair, during which time Eddie had successfully fallen down three times after attempting to stand up with his arms and head wrapped up in his shirt. Dan noticed the concerned look Bryan gave Eddie, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get to him after I look over you.”

And then Dan spent an unnerving amount of time looking over Bryan’s back. Bryan tried to hold still during the examination, but he still shifted every so often as his muscles complained. After a few minutes, Dan asked, “May I touch your back?” Seeing Bryan’s nod, he followed with, “When I do, can you tell me on a scale of one to ten how painful that area is?” Bryan nodded again, and then Dan began gently but methodically probing Bryan’s back.

None of the areas he touched hurt more than a two, and Bryan made sure to let him know. He thought some of those spots were new ones, from the day he left, but he had gotten so good at ignoring the pain that it was hard for him to register it any more. He couldn’t even tell the difference between the stripes that were days old and the stripes that were weeks old. And thinking about it, he started agreeing with Eddie, that it was probably not good that he didn’t notice the pain anymore, but Dan was both behind him and consummately professional in his voice and motions, so he couldn’t get any idea of how bad the doctor thought it was.

When Dan finished the prodding-and-rating session, he pulled out a stethoscope and asked Bryan to turn back around and face him. He asked Bryan to take in and let out large breaths, and shifted the cold instrument to a different quarter of his chest each time. Once that was done, he pulled out a blood pressure cuff, and timed something against his wristwatch while deflating it and listening in the stethoscope.

After all that, he moved on to more in-depth questions about Bryan’s body.

“Do you have any pain when breathing, not related to the bruises?”

“No.”

“Have you ever had any pain when breathing?”

“Maybe about a year ago. It went away after about a month.”

“Do you or have you ever noticed a shortness of breath, or an inability to take a full breath?”

“No.”

“Do you or have you ever noticed blood in your urine?”

“No.”

“Do you or have you ever noticed blood in your stool?”

“In my what?”

“Oh, sorry, in your poop.”

“Oh! No, but I’ve also never checked.”

“Do you or have you ever noticed skin discolorations or bruises in areas that shouldn’t develop any?”

“No.”

At the end, Dan said, “Good news: the only thing I can diagnose right now is the bruising. You aren’t reporting any of the usual complications I’d expect with this level of skin trauma, though if you ever feel woozy or pass out you need to get to a hospital immediately, or you may very well die. Also, if you do notice blood coming out of places it shouldn’t, please contact me again, and I’ll do what I can to help.

“Now then,” he said, packing up his bag, “the best thing you can do for those bruises at the moment is to apply heat. It will help break down the extra blood pooling under your skin so your body can reclaim it. I don’t know if Eddie has a heated blanket, but soaking in a hot bath at least once a day should also do the job.”

And then he asked a surprising question. “May I take some pictures for you?”

Bryan’s gaze had dropped off to the side during the question and answer session, his head shot up and he locked eyes with Dan at that last question. “Um, why?”

Dan still wore an air of nonchalance, as if the conversation was perfectly normal. “As evidence, mostly. I know it sounds horrible, but it’s easier to get an idea of the damage inflicted with a photo taken before the wounds can really start to heal.”

Bryan hadn’t caught up to what Dan was saying. “Evidence of… what?”

“Evidence of what was done to you.” Dan’s eyes and voice softened as he said, “Bruise patterns and severity like that don’t happen naturally, and they’re almost always a sign of abuse – either external or self-inflicted, and I don’t think you did this to yourself. The pattern is all wrong for that.

“I’m sure you don’t believe that anyone in authority can help you, or would even care enough to. And sometimes,” he paused and took a deep breath, “not often, but more than I would like to admit, that can be true. I don’t think it’s true now, but at times, it can be. And even so, it’s always better to have strong evidence if you can get it, and you have the opportunity to preserve that strong evidence now.”

Bryan’s first thought was, “Could you keep them secure?”

Eddie popped up from where he was sitting at the island and said, “He won’t have to. I have an old kodak camera for certain shots I might need to take – we could take the pictures and then keep the film in here somewhere.”

“But I – what if people see?”

Dan said, “See the pictures? See you?”

Bryan hung his head. “See my… my shame.”

“What shame? I don’t see any shame here.” Eddie piped up, peering around the apartment with wide, over-exaggerated gestures. “Dan? Do you see any shame?”

“No, I do not,” Dan said, chuckling at Eddie’s antics. “I see a young man who has survived. Who has kept himself alive and cognizant of himself and who he is, instead of what others would make of him. I see the scars of a battle that he won, and a war that he now, finally, has allies in, but I see nothing to be embarrassed about, and no reason for guilt. None of these wounds are your fault.”

Bryan stayed silent, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions and not sure how to respond.

“So. May I please take those pictures for you?”

Bryan nodded, and turned back around to show his back. Eddie got the camera and a fresh roll of film, then Dan directed him where to place a ruler for scale. He took multiple pictures, of his full back and of individual bruises, making sure to tell both Eddie and Bryan how to compose each shot so that the picture would be closest to reality. After he was done, Eddie took the film and pocketed it, saying that he knew the nooks and crannies of the apartment best, to be better able to hide it.

Then, bath time.

  


* * *

  


“Who did this?”

The walls in this apartment were _really_ thin – Bryan could hear Dan’s quiet voice while sitting in the tub with the door closed, and he didn’t think Eddie had ever had enough people in here at once to figure that out. Why else keep having these secret conversations where Bryan could clearly hear them?

The bath was a fantastic idea. Bryan could feel his back relaxing, which was unfamiliar and welcome at the same time, and he knew he would have to try this again soon. His bracelet sat on the sink, within reach if he needed it, though he really didn’t want to get it wet. And right now, he had a conversation to listen to.

Dan continued straight on from his question, his voice level but full of restrained anger. “Those were methodical, systematic, and, frankly, almost inhumanly precise beatings, spread out over weeks, and that’s just from the bruises that still exist. I know you would’ve gone digging. Who. Did. This.”

“We didn’t really know about the bruises until today,” Eddie responded in kind. “But Vee smelled blood when he arrived, so we kind of suspected. He ran away from an SFPD officer named Kyle Johnston two days ago, and let me tell you, that fucker is a real piece of work. Bryan’s only told us that he has friends on the force, but we can’t blame him for hiding information from what he’s said of that shitstain – he’s already put out this missing person report and apparently he’s been able to use confidential medical records _and_ police surveillance techniques to find people before. It’s why Bryan didn’t want to go to the hospital, why he’s leery of giving out any information, why he doesn’t even want to leave the apartment, because we think he assumes it’ll be used against him and that abusive asshole will find him again. And no, Vee, you can’t talk, your voice carries and Bryan would hear it. I’ll tell Dan anything you want.”

Dan sighed, and Bryan heard a chair shift like he had sat down heavily in it. “That’s… not good. I – here, do you want my analysis?”

“Of course we do. Anything could help.”

“Bryan should be crippled.” Eddie sucked in a sharp breath, and Bryan froze completely. Dan, hushed, continued, “It’s true. Beatings with an implement that long, that are that severe, and suffered that _regularly_, should have damaged some part of his spine to the point that he would have lost the use of his legs. But the spinal column was completely clear. Not that any strikes that fell on the spine got lucky and didn’t cause any damage, _no blows fell on the spine_. That implies significant concentration, preparation, and presence of mind during the entire process, because it’s not a natural way to beat someone. The only ways around it I can think of are to use a smaller implement, which is not what the abuser did, I don’t know what he did use, but it was long – “

“It was a belt,” Eddie broke into the torrent of low words. They both stayed silent for a moment, and Bryan sank further into the water, trying to ground himself. It wasn’t possible to get a beating here, the water would prevent any good strikes, he had to remember that.

“I’ll… I’m going to assume that your source is reliable and move on with that in mind. The other way to ensure a pattern like that is to have the victim lay down, either by restraints or a willingness to submit. Or at least, an unwillingness to resist. I don’t know which it was, I didn’t want to drag out the examination by looking for restraint marks and spooking him any more.

“In addition to the lack of spinal injury, he also isn’t presenting any bruised or cracked ribs, or notable kidney damage, both of which I would also expect from those kinds of wounds. I would have to take him in for a CAT scan to see if he’s bleeding internally, but if he is, it’s only a tiny amount, and that could show up at any time within the next couple months. At least he’s definitely not bleeding into his chest cavity – I checked for a pneumothorax, and his chest sounds fine. I just… to be able to cause bruises that severe and _not_ cause any additional trauma speaks to a frightening amount of precision. Only the right amount of force, only in the correct position, over and over again for weeks at the very least. And the perpetrator could never lose their temper, either – the loss of control would interfere with the striking pattern, and cause not enough or too much damage, neither of which I could see. This was done by someone with complete control of their faculties every time. Or a _robot_.”

“Not a robot,” Eddie said.

“I’ll file that with the previous source, and that only makes this guy look _worse_. He didn’t do it in the throes of anger or drowned with drink, he just… did it.”

The two stayed silent for a while, and Bryan lay there with his mind in a constant cycle of rebooting and crashing, trying to process everything that Dan had said about him. Everything that _Eddie_ had said about him. He had been surprised that Eddie hadn’t dug into him for more of the story, but apparently he had dug in to anything else he could get his hands in.

Eddie’s voice lifted through the air again, and Bryan did his best to focus. “Oh, and you gotta make a promise not to tell anyone that Bryan’s here before you leave.” He paused, and said, “Bryan’s own condition of us. It’s the only thing he’s ever asked for, we’re not going to deny it of him. Especially knowing what we all just learned.”

Dan let out a heavy sigh, and said, “Sure. I… only would have told Anne anyway, but I can hold to that. Call me if he passes out, or have Vee look into it if they’re willing.”

Another pause, and Dan finished packing things up. Before he left, though, he said, “Have you two been hanging around your old haunts again?”

Eddie, confused, said, “No, why?”

“I’ve heard reports of bodies showing your unique handiwork over the last couple days. Some homeless, I think a college student back from the bars?”

“No, we’ve been strictly on the chocolate for years. Do you think we missed one? How would they have even kept themselves hidden that long? Especially to start slipping up now?”

“I don’t know, you two would be the experts there. I’m just passing on what I know.”

“Thanks. It’s good to know, no matter how many questions it brings up. We’ll look into it.”

“Oh, and how’s your personal crusade going?”

“The lawsuit? Consistently well, and they’re using up their last appeal now. Anyone who knows anything about it knows they’re going to lose, and we see no reason to stop now. We’re also really looking forward to the damages.”

“They haven’t offered you another settlement?”

Eddie snorted and said, “Two actually, since the last time we talked. And another four attempts to keep us quiet by extralegal means. Only one of which managed to make us break a sweat.” He sounded incredibly smug about that.

“Well that’s good to hear. You going to stay in this old place?”

Bryan’s gut seized, but before he could properly react, Eddie was talking again. “You know, we hadn’t thought about it. Probably – we like the neighborhood, they know us here, and Mrs. Chen gives us free stuff sometimes.

“And besides, Bryan’s here now. It’d be easier to keep him safe in a space that we already know well, rather than one that we’ve just moved to and don’t know at all.

“Don’t give us that look, of course we’d bring him with if we moved! If he was willing. He’s under our protection now, we’re not just going to abandon him to that absolute cockwaffle.”

“And if he wants to leave?”

The question hung in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. Eventually, Eddie said, “Then we’d let him go. No one would be happy about that, but we would. Though we’d probably bite the bullet and take care of Officer Shitbiscuit right quick and in a hurry. Don’t care about the consequences.”

Another moment passed, then Dan said, “Vee seems surprisingly quiet.”

“Oh, they’re just sulking because they didn’t understand that having a roommate would mean fewer personal freedoms. They’ve gotten very used to being able to come out and say what they want, or do things in the kitchen, and now the new person novelty has worn off and they’re annoyed at being so restricted. They’re being a silly goop, it’ll pass.”

Bryan heard a faint whap from their direction, and Eddie whisper-shouting, “Gah! Quit it! Bryan needs to rest!”

Dan chuckled, and Bryan finally heard the door open. “I’ll leave you two to settle this on your own. Please, call me if anything more happens.” And then the door shut.

Full of morbid curiosity, Bryan listened to the soft sounds of a scuffle in the kitchen slide through the bathroom wall. Sinking deeper in the water, he thought back on everything he had just heard and knew that he wouldn’t be able to relax for the rest of the bath because he’d be too busy processing all of it. He wished he could preserve that feeling from when he had first slipped in, of the peace and warmth and soft support of the water, but he supposed he could reproduce it next time.

Now was the time to pull out the ol’ thinky-brain and get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY done with this chapter. Another plot jumped into my head last week and it has been Bashing Into my Brain and keeping me from focusing on this story. So! I will be taking a short break from this fic and starting another Veddie fic, which should be showing up on AO3 Soon(tm)!
> 
> To be absolutely clear - I am NOT abandoning this fic! I love Bryan and I have Plans for him and everyone will be happy in the end except for the people who really don't deserve to be happy at all.
> 
> Thank you to my readers, who are all fantastic! You are the best and great and stuff!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryan does a big think and a bath at the same time. Also, WOW has the internet moved on in seven years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took... a while. Um, sorry about that. Next one should be sooner.
> 
> No warnings that I can think of, but if you notice anything that you think should be warned against, please please please let me know and I will do so.

Ok. So.

Eddie.

And probably Vee, too. Yeah, he needed to include Vee in this, especially since Eddie kept talking in the first-person plural about himself and someone that he could only assume was Vee, _especially_ especially since he said something that made Bryan think Vee was with Eddie at a time when no one else could have possibly been with Eddie.

Bryan’s hands drifted through the bath water, swirling gently as he lost himself in thought.

How could Vee have smelled the blood on him that first night?

No one else was anywhere near them during that first conversation. The hallway was completely empty, as was the stairwell, and if anyone had been moving to keep out of his sight while he went through the building, he should have noticed. He had honed his ‘notice people moving quietly’ skills over years out of necessity.

As well, no one else was in the apartment while Eddie blew his mind and let him in. By this point, Bryan felt comfortable with the layout of the main conglomerate room, and running all the potential hiding spots through his mind – of which there weren’t many – none of them provided enough cover for where they went that evening. The island in the kitchen/dining area stored pots and other cooking dishware, and it didn’t have enough unaccounted space to hide a person. The couch might have had space enough under the plywood reinforcement, but it was too far away from where he was to get a good sniff. The pantry had too many shelves, none of which provided hiding space, all of the cabinets and under the sink were full… At this point Bryan seriously considered sneaking out and checking the floors above and below to make sure that the units there existed and weren’t just secret passageways to move around and observe people in here.

Ok, slow down.

Breathe.

Get a grip on yourself, Bryan.

He started considering the problem again, and uncovered a different but more alarming question: how could _anyone_ have smelled the blood on him that first night? He had very carefully made sure to shower completely before putting on freshly laundered clothes. Yes, since he didn’t have bandages, he had made scrubbed softly so as not to break the scabs, but he still cleaned off anything that could come off and the scent of the bodywash should have covered anything left, and those scabs hadn’t re-opened since that point. It should _not_ have been _possible_ for anyone to smell that blood.

Maybe Vee was a dog or something. Be able to smell blood from far away, and report it using a specific sign.

But that didn’t make sense with the conversations Eddie had had with them, and with how Dan had talked about them. It sounded like Vee was an active participant, which meant they were capable of communication, and thus probably a person.

Multiple times now, Eddie had said that Vee couldn’t come out, couldn’t show themselves, couldn’t freak ‘him’ out, and Bryan now had the sneaking suspicion that he was the ‘him’ that Eddie was talking about. Except in the conversation that Eddie had with Dan, where Eddie only specifically said that Vee couldn’t talk, but he could still communicate with Eddie, probably telepathically, and implying that Vee could come out, and outright stating that Vee could usually come out, but couldn’t because Bryan was there, and also holy fuck Dan knew about Vee.

Who was _Dan?_

Figure that out later. Focus on the at-least-one mystery person he was sharing an apartment with now.

So. Demonstrated abilities Vee has: super smell, silent communication with Eddie, freaky looking shape.

…Wow, he had already pretty much accepted that Vee wasn’t human.

Of course! Eddie had said those weird things the night before about how humans were ‘stubborn’ and ‘weird like that’. He must have been explaining things to his non-human partner!

Wait, Eddie called Vee ‘love’. He must be into some pretty kinky things. Bryan hoped, for Eddie’s sake, that Vee wasn’t a kind of being that ate its partners during intercourse. Granted, Bryan only knew of insects displaying that kind of behavior, and maybe a type of fish, but still. He liked his roommate. He didn’t want him to die.

Vee probably lived in Eddie’s bedroom. It was the only part of the apartment that Bryan hadn’t gone in yet, it was the only part of the apartment that Eddie had set rules on, and it was naturally a private place so people would generally think twice before entering without being invited. Hell, Bryan wanted to investigate, and _he_ was thinking twice about entering without being invited, though that was probably more about the violence that Eddie had implied he and Vee were capable of. Even more so with how blasé Dan sounded at the thought of Eddie being hurt, and entirely despite how protective of Bryan Eddie was. Not to mention that he very much didn’t want to run into Vee on his own at this point, and sneaking into their bedroom uninvited while Eddie was out was a perfect way to do that.

Eddie did say that both of them went out that second night, which makes sense because a super nose isn’t useful if it’s trapped in a bedroom. And that could have easily helped them track down the bracelet, because Bryan’s scent should have been the only one on there. Except…

Except that Eddie had said things that he only could known about if he had been in that house. He knew about the belt. He knew that Kyle didn’t have a robot to administer those beatings. That second one, at least, would have taken some searching to go through all the places where something like that could be hidden. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that they could have found the bracelet as they were going through that house.

But if they found the bracelet in the house, did Eddie talk to any homeless people at all? Sure, an information network among the homeless would probably be invaluable to a journalist, but at this point Bryan wasn’t even sure that’s what Eddie’s job was! The man had already lied to him about where he got the bracelet, probably, so what else could he be lying about?

Well, he hadn’t lied about keeping Bryan safe. And he had gone out of his way to get him medical help. And he had roped Dan into the privacy promise, unprompted. And he had gotten that pillow. And he had talked Bryan down out of panic attacks not once, but twice. And he had called him Bryan, even after he found the missing person report, and he hadn’t turned him over to the police. And he shared his food for free. And he said he’d let Bryan leave if he wanted to. And he got the bracelet, even though he might have lied about how. So he probably was still a good person who cared about Bryan for his own sake.

If Eddie wasn’t a journalist, what else could he be? Did he and Vee go galivanting around San Francisco as a crime fighting pair? The man, familiar with humans and their culture, the… Not human as investigator…?

No, that would be ridiculous. There would be no point, and they’d never get away with it. Somebody would notice. Eventually.

Heh. ‘Humans are stubborn like that.’

What Eddie could be, though, was a private investigator. Out and about at random hours of the day and night, incentive to get really sneaky at poking your nose into everyone’s business, reasons to make friends with the homeless and pop into police stations every so often…

Bryan also imagined that having a supernaturally sneaky friend with a nose that could smell washed off blood through over thirty feet of dead air and a closed door would help with the investigation thing. “Help! I want to know where my shifty husbando is disappearing to!” “Fear not, doll, my bloodhound is on the case. From the scents of cheap cologne and beer, it seems like he spends his nights getting schwasted in a speakeasy downtown.“ “Oh, that no-good dirty rotten scoundrel. How can I ever thank you enough?”

Bryan had never seen a noir detective film in his life, but he was down to mangle the hell out of the genre anyway.

Had Eddie ever served as a detective for a police force? Learning how to gather information and clues, how to put it all together and understand the means, the motives, and the opportunities that had come together to produce the scene that baffled police? Had he uncovered corruption in the force, enough to drive him out and instill that burning hatred of police officers? Did he work at night to prove their wrongdoing? Was Bryan pulling melodramatic shit out of his ass? At least one of the answers was yes.

The thing was, journalism and private investigation didn’t have that much of a difference between them. Both involved digging up information that people didn’t want you to know – information that was probably found second- or third-hand that needed to be verified somehow. Both involved making questionably legal actions in order to gather more information from places that people didn’t want them to get into. Both involved a dedication to the truth, to sifting what was real from what was not. The only real difference was in who that truth was reported to.

The private investigator reported truth to the commissioner.

The journalist reported truth to the world.

Bryan would need to find a way to read the news to figure out if Eddie had sent anything to them. And that was hoping he was a big enough name to get things on the news. He could just be a small-time reporter, messing around, selling fluff pieces to whoever coughed up the money…

Or… (and here was a rare thought) Or, he could _ask_ Eddie if he could read any of the stuff he had published. Instead of sneaking around behind his back and being (hopefully) needlessly suspicious, he could try and make use of the trust that Eddie was so extravagantly showering on him and test out his cover story. If a cover story was all it was.

Hmm, thinking more about things Eddie said…

…Eddie said something about ‘missing one’, wondering how ‘they’ could have ‘kept themselves hidden’ so long. Were there more of whatever Vee was? If so, how many more? And why would they need to hide, or why would Eddie and Vee be looking for them? Did they have a society of whatever Vee was, with a separate law and justice system? Was that Eddie’s real job – did Eddie and Vee serve as enforcers for that system, hunting down itinerant Vees and returning them to justice? Was Eddie their only liaison with the human world? Wait, Dan knew about Vee. How had that happened, if the Vees had a system dedicated to ensuring their secrecy? Was that what Dan was talking about with those bodies? Had those people learned too much about the Vees, and needed to be silenced? Were Eddie and Vee hitmen – hitpeople – for a Vee mafia? Was Bryan going to be their next victim? Were they ever going to allow him to leave?

_Yes._

Yes, they were. Eddie had specifically said so to Dan when he thought Bryan wasn’t listening, so at least he hadn’t been putting on a front for Bryan’s benefit. And Bryan was willing to believe that Eddie wasn’t lying to Dan, either, based on all the disconcerting subjects that Eddie _didn’t_ feel the need to lie to Dan about. So that was good – he could leave the apartment if he needed to, even with his spotty knowledge of the Vees.

Including whatever was up with the chocolate. Eddie had mentioned that they were ‘on the chocolate’, and playing games trying to get each other to eat the stuff would make it easier. Especially since it sounded like some sort of prescription or a necessary supplement, and those were never fun to worry about taking. Though, why did Eddie have to eat the chocolate? People didn’t need – hold up. _Humans_ didn’t get anything out of that much chocolate except fat, so maybe he was only doing it to encourage Vee. And even then, it didn’t explain how Eddie was still in such good shape. Or, for all Bryan knew, maybe it made his thoughts sweeter whenever Vee needed to communicate with him.

There was just so much he didn’t know, that he needed to know to steer clear of any potential fallout.

And the water was cold.

Well, he could two things once he got out of the bath. Firstly, he could ask Eddie if he could read any of the articles he’d written. And secondly, he could start actively looking for things to figure out more about Eddie and Vee. He couldn’t bring any of his questions up in conversation – Eddie was smart enough to catch on if he did that – but he could take a closer poke around the apartment, and maybe peek in Eddie’s room once Eddie (and presumably Vee) had left on one of their excursions. Except wait, fuck, Vee had the God-nose, they’d smell if Bryan had been in the room. Ah, well. He still needed to know, he’d figure something out.

Right now, though, he needed to see if the laundry was done. He sloshed his way out of the tub and to his borrowed towel, and started to dry off.

He slipped the bracelet on once his arm was dry.

* * *

Bryan had gotten out of the bathroom to find out that no, the laundry was not done, so he hung around in Eddie’s uniform grey sweatgear for the moment. Eddie and Vee hadn’t broken anything noticeable in their quiet scuffle, and Eddie now sat on the couch, focusing on his computer.

“Hey, Eddie?”

He looked up. “Yep?”

“If somebody wanted to read articles you had written, where would you direct them?”

“Probably my blog, I cross-post everything I do there if I’m allowed to. I assume this hypothetical, anonymous curious person is you?”

Bryan’s face flushed slightly, and he said, “Yeah. It’s hard to learn about what you do by watching you sit on the couch, or making food.”

“Hey, you could ask. I wouldn’t be able to recite any of my stuff to you verbatim, I just don’t remember that much, but I could tell you stories.” His brow furrowed, and he continued, “Though I suppose you are asking now, so good job! You anticipated my suggestion. Or thought it up on your own, I’m not the only dispenser of good advice.”

“So how should I look at your blog?”

“I’ll message you a link somehow. Do you have a twitter, or a facebook account?”

Bryan shook his head, looking sheepish.

“Discord?” Another shake. “Instagram?” More shaking. “WhatsApp?” Continued, defeated shaking. “Snapchat? Gmail? Tumblr? Reddit? Kik? Skype? Telegram? Yahoo? _AOL?_”

By the end of the list, Bryan had given up shaking his head and just stood there, hanging his head like a morose puppy. Eddie stared at him in dumbfounded wonder, then asked, “Do you have any accounts, of any kind, for any website on the internet?”

The flush, which had been confined to his cheeks, finally made its way up to his ears. “I made some when I was in college, but I don’t have the passwords for them any more. Or the email accounts.”

Eddie nodded decisively. “Ok, well, we’re going to change that. Go grab your phone and I’ll help you set up something secure.”

Bryan reluctantly stood still. The flush started inching onto the back of his neck.

Realization swept over Eddie’s face and he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Oh, God, of course not! Of _course_ you wouldn’t have anything to provide information about the world outside your house! Or pass the time! I had wondered why you just sat there while we waited for Dan, and – the drawing! ‘In your spare time!’ Which you would have had way too much of over seven years with no internet! It all makes sense now!”

He focused back on Bryan. “I am so sorry for not picking up on that till just now, and also for the probably embarrassing interrogation about your online activities. So very, very sorry, and I’m not going to promise it won’t happen again because I’m an idiot and I don’t notice things as fast as I should.”

He set the computer aside and looked straight up at Bryan. “I _will_ promise that I’ll try to be better.”

The full-head flush continued, but now because Eddie made such a big deal out of something that Bryan a) didn’t think warranted it, and b) desperately wanted to move on from. The apology was also far more effusive than expected – if he didn’t know better, Bryan might have thought that Eddie thought he had hurt Bryan somehow, but that didn’t make any sense. Who would apologize for hurting Bryan’s feelings?

Maybe Vee was influenced by the emotions of the people around them, and preferred said people to feel the more positive feelings. Hell, for all Bryan knew, chocolate really had the effect on people that Harry Potter said it did.

Bryan said, “Thanks, it’s fine. I… do have a tablet that I might be able to use, but I can’t turn it on.”

Eddie nodded slightly, still studying Bryan. “Is it broken?”

“No, it’s… if it’s on, he can find it.”

“Ah. Would you like that to not be a thing?”

Bryan felt his conversational footing screech five feet to the left, and he blurted out, “That could be not a thing?” to spin his metaphorical arms and keep his balance.

“Oh, sure,” Eddie looked unconcerned, “I know some people with a big enough faraday cage and ways to get around evil location tracking security software shit. Would you mind if I asked if they’d be willing to take a crack at it?”

“I… sure?”

Eddie took one look at the obviously unanchored Bryan and backed up. “Hey, if you don’t want to go through this, that’s fine. Yeah, I got a little pushy because I was excited, but that’s no reason to do it if you don’t wanna.”

Bryan exhaled, thought for a moment, and nodded. “Yes, I still want to do this.”

“Awesome! Let me send out a message and get the ball rolling.”

Before Eddie could whip out his phone, Bryan said, “But – can I ask a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Can your faraday people strip the security from the tablet, but not look at anything else on it?”

Eddie looked up at Bryan’s still-red but fully serious face. "Sure. They owe me that, and I can keep them to their word. Once you get it back, I recommend making a backup copy of whatever's on there. I can help with that, if you want me to, but really the important thing is to make and keep safe strong evidence, like Dan said.

"I know you don't plan on doing anything with it, but it's still good to have. You never know when you might need to get the law on your side."

Bryan kept silent and nodded, blandly agreeing to Eddie's assertions and continuing to wonder why the hell he spoke from experience about them. He left Eddie on his computer and went back to his room to grab the tablet, for the first time in a long time thinking about the outside world and what he could learn about it.

But first, he would check out Eddie. For survival reasons.


End file.
